


Icky

by LaufeyOfThay



Series: Thayvian Tales [14]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaufeyOfThay/pseuds/LaufeyOfThay
Summary: This is a short story. It is a slice of life, involving the facts of life. Consider yourself very lucky that you were not the one charged with explaining said facts to young Edwin.
Series: Thayvian Tales [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717807
Kudos: 2





	Icky

_Stay calm. Stay in control. Approach this as you would any other important lesson, and everything will go smoothly. You can do this. You can._

“Teacher Dekaras? Are you feeling all right?” Young Edwin Odesseiron gave his tutor a worried look, and fidgeted a little in his desk. “You look sort of like you’ve eaten something bad, want me to go get Mother?” 

“No!” the tall black-clad assassin standing in the front of the school room exclaimed, and then he took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back, before clearing his throat. “No, boy, that won’t be necessary. I assure you, I am perfectly well. I was simply…gathering my thoughts.” 

_And I don’t need an audience for this, amusing as I’m sure she would find it._

His beloved wizardess had been completely adamant on the subject as they had discussed it last night, and he had a sneaking suspicion that she would quite enjoy any potential embarrassment on his part. 

“He needs to learn, and he’s quite old enough for it,” she had said. “You know the famed and glorious reputation of the Thayvian men, and you wouldn’t want him to be considered inferior to his peers, would you?” 

“He’s hardly old enough to put any of those theories into practice for several years.” 

“No, but he still needs to know, or he will be far behind the others. Only the basic procedure first of course, and the more advanced instruction in some years, the things he needs to know in order to leave beautiful concubines gasping under his erotic onslaught..” 

“Advanced instruction?! You don’t expect me to…” 

“My beloved Wolf, while I fully understand that the Rashemite men are adorably shy compared to native Thayvians, the task must still be yours. Edwin adores you, he will listen to you, and you are certainly far more equipped to teach him than Galen is. Or do you want him to go through life thinking that ‘Tally Ho’ is an exclamation that makes a woman burn with passion?” 

“I did **not** need to know that detail. And I am not shy, I simply happen to think that this is one lesson that can easily wait a few years, until he is better equipped to understand it.” 

“Oh, nonsense. You will do magnificently, you always do. Remember to instruct him in birth control, it cannot be stressed often enough. Grandchildren would be lovely once that time comes, but we want them with the right girl, after all.” 

“Grandchildren?! He isn’t even seven yet! What will you do next, start planning his wedding?” 

“We should, actually, to ensure the arrangements are as perfect and opulent as he deserves, but that is another matter. Now, go on beloved, make me happy and do this.” 

And he would. Of course he would. Especially since she had mentioned something about how **they** were certainly old enough to put a thing or two into practice. Yes, he could do this. Vadrak Dekaras was capable of exterminating even the most dangerous foes, he had survived close brushes with death on many occasions. Certainly he should be able to impart a few carefully selected facts of life to his own child. Even if that child was Edwin. 

“Edwin,” Dekaras said, determined to get his mission over with. “Edwin, what do you know about…where people come from?” It was a bit of a vague beginning, but he thought it best to start slowly. 

The boy beamed at him, smiling widely. “That’s easy!” he proudly declared. “The gods made all people, and the elves and the dwarves and the halflings and the dragons and everything! Though if I were a god, I wouldn’t bother with making so many people, since most of them are stupid anyway. I’d make more dragons instead. Lots and lots and lots of dragons, all sorts with spiky tails and great big teeth and…” 

“Yes,” his teacher said, briefly raising his hand to cut off the flood of words. “Yes, but surely you do not expect the gods to take an active hand in the creation of every single individual, do you?” 

Edwin blinked. “Why not?” 

“Why not? What do you mean, ‘why not’?” 

“Well,” Edwin explained, “it would take a God to create me, wouldn’t it? They wouldn’t want to leave something important like that so some silly solar or something. I bet it’s one of the really powerful ones too, but I haven’t figured out which one. People who make fine paintings and silver and stuff like that write their names on them so everybody will know who the maker is, and I looked all over in a mirror, but I guess whoever made me must have forgotten to sign me.” 

Dekaras blinked. “Yes…” he said. “How very thoughtless of him.” He tried to rally. “Listen, boy, gods may involve themselves with procreation on occasion, but generally a pair of parents are involved. Have you never wondered how your mother and father went about having you?” _Not details. I am not about to go into details, whatever she says._

Edwin nodded, and thoughtfully supported his chin in his hand. “Yes,” he said. “I figured it had to have been ‘Master Orlando’s Magical Merchandise.’” 

Dekaras reeled a little and had to grasp his desk firmly with both hands in order to support himself. There was a sharp, drilling pain right between his eyes. “What…makes you say that?” he asked. _And do I even want to know?_

“Mother always buys the best, whatever it is, doesn’t she? She gets all her magic things from there, they’re the best in town. And she always says I’m her special magic boy, the best there is, so I have to come from there, don’t I?” He frowned. “But it’s funny that I’ve never seen any other children there. Maybe they didn’t want to bother with them since they couldn’t ever be as great as me. I guess that must be it.” 

“It is…an interesting theory,” Dekaras said, as he tried to suppress a sudden inner vision of rows upon rows of shelves covered with hundreds, no, thousands of young Edwins for sale, all of them giving him that frighteningly innocent look. “However, it does not take all the facts into consideration. Let me try this again, from another angle. Are you aware of the fact that girls, in some ways, are different from boys?” 

“Of course, Teacher Dekaras.” 

“You are? Explain, please.” 

“Girls are icky,” Edwin said, scrunching up his nose. Then he fell silent, seemingly thinking this said it all. 

“That’s it? ‘Girls are icky’?” _Helm help me, how to progress from there to the ‘birth control’ step?_ “You don’t feel the need to add anything to that statement?” 

Edwin gave him a hesitant look. “Girls are really icky?” he suggested. 

“All girls? What about your mother, for one?” 

“That’s different,” Edwin said. “Her and Auntie Poppy aren’t really girls.” 

_And wouldn’t they be thrilled to hear it._ “What are they?” the assassin asked, dreading the answer. 

“They’re just Mother and Auntie Poppy,” the boy replied. “Teacher Dekaras? What do girls have to do with where people come from?” 

“Ah. Yes. I was getting to that. You see, when a man and a woman like each other a great deal, they like to do certain nice things together.” 

“What things?” 

“What things? Er…well, hugs and kisses are generally a good start, and then…” 

But Dekaras broke off, noticing that the child was staring incredulously at him. “Now what?” he asked. 

“Kisses aren’t nice things!” Edwin protested. 

“Let me hazard a guess. ‘Icky’, am I correct?” 

“Yes! I’m never doing kissing stuff for as long as I live!” 

_I wonder if that might spare me the lesson in how to behave like a proper Thayvian man then? No, his mother would never agree._

“And it’s not as if I have to, even when I’m a grown up,” Edwin cheerfully went on. “I mean, **you** never do, and you’re the best!” 

“I…” the assassin said, finding it entirely impossible to respond to that. 

“It can be just you and me forever and ever,” Edwin said, “and we don’t need any stupid **girls** around, do we, Teacher Dekaras?” 

The door to the schoolroom opened, and there was a whiff of expensive perfume, followed by the hiss of a luxurious red gown against the floor. “You do not, Master Dekaras?” Elvira Odesseiron said, tilting her head to one side so that her black hair slithered across her creamy bare shoulder. “How fortunate for you. And just what, if I may ask, have you been teaching my son this morning?” 

“Where people come from!” Edwin interjected. “And I was right all along, which I think was really clever of me, I knew I had to come from ‘Master Orlando’s Magical Merchandise’ and I was right!” Then, he frowned and scratched his head. “But I still don’t understand what girls have to do with anything…” 

“I see,” Elvira said, and the corner of her mouth was twitching just a bit as she met the eyes of the dejected assassin. “Well, it may become clear later on. In fact, I think your teacher and I will have a little word about your curriculum. At your earliest possible convenience, Master Dekaras.” 

Dekaras closed his eyes briefly, and bowed to her. “Yes, Mistress,” he said. When victory was out of the question, defeat might as well be handled gracefully. 

-*-   
_Later that night…_

“Perhaps you were right,” Elvira Odesseiron mused, as she lightly caressed her lover’s chest with one hand, resting her head on his shoulder. “One day he will drive the girls wild with desire I’m sure, but he is rather young still, there will be plenty of time to give him instruction in what he must know.” 

“I did try,” Dekaras defended himself. “But somehow I don’t think that boy is quite ready to learn about gasping concubines yet.” 

She grinned, looking suddenly like a girl barely out of her teens. “Then perhaps his father might benefit from an extra lesson or two? Devastatingly wonderful as he is, practice still makes perfect.” 

The assassin scrunched his face up in a perfect imitation of Edwin’s previous grimace. “You mean…’kissing stuff’? How **icky**.” 

The pillow that hit him in the face was a very small price to pay for the compensation that followed.


End file.
